None Sense
by elfmaiden4legs
Summary: ****How I believe season 7 probably should have ended! Wilson goes in search of House after he crashes his car into the side of Cuddy's house, House has a seizure - lots of angst and drama! This story is a re-upload of an old story of mine of the same name, and has now been extended!


**None Sense**

"Over here, I think I've found him." A police officer called, as Wilson ran over to join them. His wrist was still strapped up inside a temporary cast, and bound in a sling, but he'd insisted on joining in the search for his friend.

House sat on the sidewalk, feet training in the gutter, and face dripping with an unhealthy sheen of sweat. He appeared seemingly oblivious to the commotion which had kicked up all around him; police officers and their vehicles seemed to escape his notice in equal measure, and his eyes had taken on a distinctly glazed fixture, looking out on a world he could apparently no longer see nor comprehend.

"House, what in hell were you thinking?" Wilson exclaimed as he knelt down on the pavement beside his friend.

His friend's hand was cold, icy cold in fact, as he placed his hand in his in a futile attempt to get his attention – but House didn't even seem to notice.

Wilson frowned.

Another police officer stepped forward, bloated with his own sense of authority and eager to make his intended arrest. "Gregory House…" He began, "I am arresting you for…" But the oncologist quickly held up a hand to stifle the rest of his words as House suddenly began to speak.

The troubled Head of Diagnostics continued to mumble nonsense under his breath, and Wilson listened intently to the inane ramblings of garbled gibberish which continued to come flowing out of his mouth.

He appeared to be in conversation with somebody unseen to the rest of them, and therefore someone who couldn't really be there.

"I think he's hallucinating." Wilson explained urgently, as he waved his one remaining good hand in front of his friend's face – to no response. "And if I'm right we'll need an ambulance down here… and please, telephone Doctor Lisa Cuddy."

"I'm afraid Doctor Cuddy said that she doesn't want anything more to do with Doctor House…" One officer began to explain as another began to call for an ambulance from his mobile phone, when, to all of their surprise, House suddenly scrabbled to his feet and started hobbling away.

Wilson was after him in a flash.

"House… House…" He called after him, trying to hold him back and get his attention – but House simply subconsciously shook him away.

"You don't understand." He called desperately to the on looking police officers. "You asked me if I knew of any reason why you shouldn't arrest doctor House! Well, if I'm right, then it could mean that he wasn't responsible for what transpired tonight!"

"Either that or this is simply the result of what happened here." One of the police officers pointed out. "He crashed his car into a brick wall, not many people would come through that unscathed."

"No…" Wilson shook his head. "Greg House loves Lisa Cuddy, no matter what he's done in the past, no matter how reckless, he'd never risk hurting her, it just doesn't make any sense."

At that moment House's whole body jerked upwards, attracting Wilson's distracted attentions back to him. He appeared momentarily suspended mid-step before crumpling with a heavy thud to the ground, body contorted and limbs convulsing in all directions – evidently in the grip of a violent seizure.

"Believe me now?" Wilson asked as he ran to his friend's side.

Wilson did his best to support House's head and stop him from injuring himself any further as he knelt down at his side – wincing in sympathy as the tarmac sliced at the skin on the other man's hands and drew blood. At some point House bit his tongue and more blood dribbled out from between his dry lips. Wilson struggled to stabilise his friend's convulsing frame – the pain in his own wrist momentarily forgotten as the adrenalin caused his heart to flutter uncomfortably – whilst all around him the officers looked on, apparently at a complete loss as to what to do.

"Will somebody please inform Doctor Cuddy?" He appealed to the blur of unfamiliar faces who'd gathered around to witness events unfold, and watched as the officer who'd taken down Cuddy's number prior to making his report withdrew his mobile phone, as another much younger officer began to usher the crowd away from the scene.

The rain continued to cascade down from the by now dark early evening skies high above, soaking the both of them. House coughed slightly as he inhaled some of the tiny water droplets into his lungs – but Wilson felt relieved when he felt the convulsions finally begin to ease, quietly confident that the seizure which had wracked his friend's body had finally passed, and as House slowly started to come around Wilson removed his jacket and draped it over his friend's frame.

"House?" Wilson's tone was tentative and uncertain as he watched House slowly open his eyes, blinking in confusion before his attention was finally drawn in the direction of the voice calling his name. "House, can you hear me?"

When he finally spoke House's speech was slightly slurred, and his words didn't seem to make much sense – which was only to be expected given the circumstances, but Wilson made no attempt to stifle the steady stream of confused words coming from his friend's mouth. Instead he opted to listen with the same degree of care he'd devote to any of his patients, as he waited for House to become more lucid.

"Wilson?" House asked – evidently confused as he attempted to look around him – grimacing at the crick in his neck. "I... I was in Hawaii... where am I?"

"House, you were hallucinating." Wilson explained. He tried to keep his tone as soft and as gentle as possible – realising that ordinarily this would have annoyed the crap out of his friend, but he didn't even appear to have noticed under the circumstances. Wilson noticed one of the officers step forward – presumably to read House of his rights – as he placed two fingers to the side of his friend's neck to check his pulse, but he raised his free hand to stop him in his tracks and felt an immediate sense of relief as the man interpreted the signal, but didn't go very far. Instead he stepped back just far enough to give the two men some space but stayed just close enough to still hear what they were saying.

"You had a seizure..." Wilson sighed.

Silence.

"House?"

"My head hurts..." House groaned as he raised his two bloodied hands to the side of his head, balling them into fists before moving them down to his leg to massage his wounded thigh, "and my leg..."

Wilson released a pent up breath which he hadn't even realised he's been holding onto. There was still no sign of the ambulance.

"I don't have my bag on me." He explained apologetically – sighing in his moment of frustration. If the pain in House's thigh muscle was bad now it was only going to get worse as the cramps intensified. Wilson only felt helpless with the knowledge that no matter how bad things got there was nothing he could do for the pain.

Instead he decided to give his friend some space – watching as he began to rub at the aching limb, boring his fingers into the deep crevices where healthy muscle used to be. His complexion was already a few shades paler than its usual tone, but now blanched even further as he let out a small groan proceeded by a whimper. Wilson instinctively placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder as House gripped his thigh in both palms – panting through tightly clenched teeth until the cramp which had gripped him released the painful hold it had over his body.

"Wilson... my leg..." House sobbed. The two of them were by now almost completely soaked through, and House began to shiver as the rain soaked through his clothes and cooled against his already cold body. Wilson put a palm to his friend's cheeks, before taking House's hands within his own and noticing that they were icy cold. Not even the jacket, it too now sodden with freezing rainwater, which Wilson had draped over his friend's convulsing form, seemed to be helping to keep him warm.

"House, I don't have my bag!" Wilson reiterated apologetically, before turning back to the police officer who'd first approached the two men after House had initially regained consciousness.

"Where is that ambulance?" He demanded.

"I don't know Doctor Wilson." The young man replied with an uncertain shrug. "I'm still trying to get hold of Doctor Cuddy for you."

"Well forget that for now." Wilson snapped, as he rubbed House's cold hands within his own to try and restore the circulation. "Just chase up that ambulance. I need assistance now!"

The young man nodded feebly, and Wilson again gently pressed two fingers to the side of House's neck to re-check his pulse.

As he did this however House's body appeared to relax as the cramp which had wracked his injured thigh finally eased and after a moment House finally opened his eyes, which had been screwed tightly shut against the pain. For the first time he appeared to notice the policemen and the flurry of activity going on around him, and turned to look up at Wilson in concern.

"Wilson, what happened?" He asked, confused. "Has there been an accident?"

Wilson looked down at his friend. It was only now that he noticed a small cut on House's temple which was beginning to ooze blood, and he did his best to mop up the wound and apply gentle pressure to staunch the bleeding, as he decided what to say and just how much to tell him about what had happened.

"No House there hasn't been an accident." He finally sighed and House frowned.

"You crashed your car into the side of Cuddy's House." Wilson proceeded to cautiously explain, and House's eyes immediately widened with shock. He tried to sit up, but Wilson promptly lowered him back down to the ground again. House lay there for a moment, his eyes glassy and unfocused as he looked up at Wilson.

"Do you remember?" Wilson asked, but House shook his head.

"No." He responded, and his frown deepened as he struggled to recall the evening's events. "The last thing I remember I was driving away... Cuddy was having dinner... there was another man with her..."

Wilson nodded, and as he did so he noticed that House's eyes were beginning to close again. He no longer seemed entirely with it, and when he spoke again House's speech was slightly slurred.

"Is she alright?" He asked.

"Yes." Wilson reassured him. "Her house is going to need a lot of work, but everyone inside is fine. Fortunately no one was hurt."

House nodded, this information appeared to placate him somewhat. Wilson frowned. His friend's eyes were now almost completely closed, and his body appeared to go slightly stiff in Wilson's arms.

"House, are you alright?" Wilson asked.

"Mmm tired." House murmured in response, and he thought he heard the sound of sirens on the horizon.

"Head feels funny." He tried to explain, before everything went black.

Wilson breathed a sigh of relief as he looked up to see the ambulance finally approaching them, as it turned a corner at the top of the street. As he did so however he noticed House's head slump as he lost consciousness, before his body went rigid and began to shake violently and shiver, as House was gripped by another seizure.

**HOUSEMD**

When House next regained consciousness it was no longer dark nor raining. There was a thick blanket swathed around his torso, warming his cold body and as he opened his eyes slowly the darkening evening skies appeared to have given way to a blazing sun, the light of which pierced his retinas and made House recoil. It took House a moment to adjust to his new surroundings and realise that the light wasn't actually coming from the sun at all, but the luminescent glow of a hospital room.

It took him a further moment to realise that he couldn't feel his legs, and he struggled to move in a moment of desperate panic, regretting this immediately as the sudden movement set off a banging pain in his head, which until now had been little more than a dull ache on the threshold of his awareness. Instinctively he raised his two hands to either side of his temples in order to cradle his throbbing head, and noticed that they too were swathed in bandages, and there was a small canella feeding saline and some sort of medication into the back of one hand.

He let out a small groan – despite the fact that he'd obviously only just awoken from a deep sleep he still felt exhausted.

As House stirred Wilson sat up in his seat beside his friend's bedside. Rubbing the cast of his broken arm with his one remaining good hand he gingerly got to his feet, and leaned over the other man's prostrate form.

"Hey." He smiled down at his friend as House's attentions slowly came to focus upon his face. "Try not to move." He advised him gently as he placed a restraining hand upon House's shoulder.

"I can't feel my legs." House croaked in a voice so weak that his words were almost imperceptible, but Wilson detected the note of panic in his tone.

"We had to give you an epidural." He explained in an attempt to reassure his friend's concerns.

"The leg?" House asked.

Wilson nodded.

House's complexion was still pale, and there were evident circles of exhaustion beneath his eyes, but at least they'd lost their glassy stair of earlier. He frowned with concern however as he watched his friend squeeze his eyes tight shut and ball his hands into fists either side of his head in evident discomfort.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, as he made his way around to the foot of House's bed to review his patient record.

House starred at him for a moment before he responded.

"Terrific." He finally replied, only a very slight hint of sarcasm in his tone. "What happened to me?"

"You mean you don't remember anything?" Wilson frowned, and House's eyes now followed him as he replaced the chart and made his way back around the side of the bed. House then watched as his friend removed a syringe from a nearby draw of supplies before unpacking it from its sterile sleeve and removing a small vial of medication from his pocket. He watched him fill the hypodermic with the clear liquid, the name of which he couldn't quite decipher, before injecting the contents into his canella and disposing of both the syringe and the now empty vial in a nearby bin.

Wilson then sat himself down on the edge of House's bed, looking down at his friend expectantly.

House moved his head slowly from the left and then to the right, answering in the negative.

Wilson sighed – scratching his head thoughtfully as he looked down at House.

Finally he responded.

"You've had a number of seizures." He explained gently, not wanting to alarm his friend if he genuinely couldn't remember anything about what had transpired the evening before.

"We're still waiting on the results of a CT scan, but I'd put money on it having something to do with the head injury you sustained a couple of years ago. We've got you on some anti-seizure medication though and you've been stable for the past few hours now."

House's brow furrowed as though he was trying to recall something from deep within the recesses of his own mind. As he watched him Wilson pulled his chair up to his friend's bedside, and waited to see what he might recall. He still kept a very close eye on him though as he took his seat.

Finally House spoke, but when he did so it was to utter just one word.

"Cuddy?" He asked.

"She's fine." Wilson smiled, and then frowned; concerned that House might also have forgotten what he'd told him about what had happened. There was something within his friend's troubled expression and his guarded body language which told him otherwise, but still Wilson couldn't be sure.

"House..." He broached the subject with his friend cautiously, "do you remember what happened?"

House nodded tentatively, and as he did so averted his gaze from Wilson's. He seemed to be having a hard time coming to terms with the realisation of what had happened, and Wilson thought that he noticed tears glistening in the slightly older man's eyes.

"I remember what you told me I did." He croaked despondently after a moment. "Cuddy's going to hate me."

"She doesn't hate you House." Wilson shook his head. "She knows that what happened wasn't your fault. She just needs time to come to terms with the situation."

"I love her Wilson." House sighed after a moment, and to Wilson's surprise these sounded like the words of a broken man.

"I know." He nodded.

"What's going to happen to me Wilson?" He asked. "What am I going to do?"

Wilson sighed.

"Well the police aren't going to press any charges." He explained. "Cuddy at least saw to that – they know that you weren't in control of what happened."

"And what about me?" House asked. "How long am I going to have to stay here? What's going to happen to me now?" He pressed.

"Just a few more days House, that's all, I promise." Wilson urged, willing his friend to stay positive. "I want to run a few more tests, keep you in for observation. Chances are that last night was just a one off, but I just want to be sure before I discharge you."

House didn't respond to this.

"House?" Wilson frowned, as he got to his feet to check on him.

"I'm tired Wilson." House sighed, as he burrowed his aching head even deeper into the soft hospital pillows.

"Then rest." The oncologist smiled reassuringly. "I'll still be here when you wake up. I'm not going anywhere House."

Wilson made his way over to dull the lights of the room so that his friend could rest a little easier, and as he did so he thought he heard House mutter under his breath.

"Goodnight Wilson."

"Goodnight House." He smiled as he then plunged the small hospital room into relative darkness – and Wilson then returned to his chair to continue his vigil over his friend's sleeping form.


End file.
